


Jungle

by TheLadyKing



Series: Erik's Harlem Home [7]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Other, Prompt Fill, also they fucking, but it's not about them, other folks show up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-04-03 16:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13999962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyKing/pseuds/TheLadyKing
Summary: Prompts: "Can you make a fic based on the weekend by sza " via Anon and "Reader/Erik - sex while pregnant" via Anon.





	1. Wreckless

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to combine these two just for my own sanity sake. Also, this is literally the first time I've ever actually listened to all of The Weekend so that was interesting.
> 
> Title from Jungle by Drake though because when I started writing I was listening to that.

You smile and accept the kiss on the cheek from your mom. She smiles back and pats your hand as she eases into the chair beside yours, letting out a content sigh as she leans back. The two of you sit quietly, watching the rest of your family as they greet one another.

Your eyes go to where Erik is wrestling with the kids, a few of your older cousins joining into the tussle. The radio next to where your father is manning the grill blares old soul songs and you feel lighter than you have in years.

“You did good,” your mom blurts, shifting in her seat as she turns to look at you.

“Did what good?” you ask, still watching Erik and the kids. Cam is on his back, screaming with glee as he reaches back and lifts her little body into the air. Around him, your cousins stop and stare in awe.

“With the kids. With him,” your mom says, her smile loosening as she takes your hand in hers again.

“Ma,” you start, feeling suddenly close to tears.

“I know I talk my mess, your daddy too, but we were worried a long time,” she says, gesturing around you, her eyes landing pointedly on Erik.

Kadija whoops as Erik swings Cam back to the ground, standing close to your father at the grill as she waits for her cheeseburger. You smile and lean back into the wicker chair nodding as your mom continues to stroke your hand.

“I was worried too,” you murmur, looking down at your stomach. You’re still worried, truth be told.

“Can I give you some advice?” your mom asks.

You shrug. “Sure, mama.”

“Don’t think about tomorrow. Think about today. Are you happy right now?”

You nod.

“Good, then be happy. Enjoy your baby shower, baby. Let me go help your daddy before he burns the food,” she says, getting up with gusto. You laugh as she sashays to your father, bumping hips with Kadija who’s now munching on what you’re sure is an overcooked burger. You can see the ketchup dripping past her fingers and you sigh, happy to have brought them both a spare set of clothes.

You turn back around and watch Erik as he organizes a game of tag now. Even some of your cousins your age gather around him, ready to join in the fun.

You let out a deep breath and press your hand against your extended belly, letting your worry ebb away. You’re happy.

At least you think you are.

You sigh and lean back in your chair, you want to enjoy this; this is your day. But all you’ve been able to think about for the past six months, every time Erik’s gone, is if he’s with that light skin broad Tameeka spotted him with.

It makes your stomach turn to think he’s out there playing you. That he might have been out there playing you for a long ass time. And what would you even have to show for it? You love your girls, you’ll never regret them, but there’s so much you haven’t been able to do.

So much you gave up on. All while Erik’s traveled between you and MIT and whatever or whoever else. Not to mention him being active duty, it feels like all of your relationship has taken place in letters with a few bouts of sex in between. What’s worse is that you never minded.

You love Erik, there’s no doubt in your or anyone else’s mind you love him. From the moment he put your wig on ‘til now, you’ve loved him. And not once have you ever thought he was… that he could be…

“What you over here moping for?” Tameeka says, crouching in front of you. You give her a weak smile and gesture to the chair beside you.

“Where’s Shanice?” you ask, stretching. Tameeka gestures to the game of tag where her girlfriend is chasing after one of your little cousins.

“She loves that kind of shit. Did I tell you about the date she took me on that was just manhunt with a bunch of strangers in Central Park? Whitest shit I ever did,” Tameeka grumbles, smiling wide as she watches them play around. You smile too, happy that they’ve settled down. You never liked Shanice, not with all the arguing her and Tameeka get into, but you’re happy for her, nonetheless.

It never escapes you how parallel your relationship with Erik feels to Tameeka and Shanice. Though, at least, you know Shanice has never cheated on Tameeka.

Don’t you wish you could say the same?

“Uh-uh, enough of that moping shit. It’s a nice ass day and you’re getting free shit. Buck up, hoe,” Tameeka says, pulling you out of your seat. You roll your eyes but let her pull you towards the grill and then to speak to some of your more sedentary family. By the time you get back to the rented wicker chair, your feet are barking and you’re ready for a plate of food.

“Mind if I cut in, Meeka?” Erik asks, coming over with a half-empty Corona in his hand. Tameeka purses her lips and leaves the two of you. Erik places the beer down on the ground and helps you ease into your seat before sitting beside you.

“How you feeling?” he asks, checking you out.

“I feel hungry. Make me a plate?” you ask, ready to pout if need be. Though you don’t get the chance because he places a quick kiss on the back of your hand and rushes to get you something to eat. Above you the sun is setting, soft afternoon light casting everyone around you in orange and pink light.

You wish you were feeling better about all of this.

“Erik off to make you a plate?” your dad asks, as he walks up with a bottled water for you. You nod and take a sip, just then realizing how thirsty you are too.

“Good. I know your mom talked to you earlier, she’s been pestering me all day to come and say something. Words of wisdom. Only issue is I ain’t all that wise,” he says, hands shoved into the pockets of his khaki shorts.

“That’s all right, dad. I’m all right.”

He looks you up and down, nodding slowly. “I want to take your word for it but I’m sure your mom’s listening somewhere,” he jokes.

You let out a laugh. “That’d be like her,” you tease.

Your father nods, looking around for her as he does and then looking back pointedly at you.

You sigh. “How did you and mama work things out?” you ask, looking down at your hands.

He shifts on his feet and pulls the hat from his head, scratching at his bald head. “Just faced it, I guess. I played around on your mama. Put y’all through nonsense and your mama wasn’t about to let me back into your life if I wasn’t serious about getting my shit together. I don’t know if you remember but I did 18 months on some bogus charge and when I came back out… wasn’t nobody waiting for me. All them friends I had, all the people I thought were more important than y’all. Wasn’t none of them there.”

You nod, you know about him going to jail for a while, but you can’t say you remember it. You were too young and by the time anyone brought it back up you were too old for it to matter.

“It wasn’t immediate, but eventually I got it in my head I had to be in your life. And you and your mama were a package deal. Not that I didn’t love your mama still, but I before I was thinking of her I was thinking of you. In the end, I couldn’t replace y’all and I knew that. And she did too, so we worked on it together. Took time but I don’t regret it now. Your mama may be a lot of things but she’s the love of my life,” he finishes, wiping at his face before clearing his throat.

You give him a smile. “Thanks, daddy,” you say. He bends and kisses you on the cheek quickly before rushing off, making you laugh.

Your dad is a lot of things but emotional isn’t one of them. It’s nice to see that side of him occasionally.

Erik comes back then, carrying two plates with him. “Sorry I took a while. I got the girls situated and made us some to-go plates hidden away. Here,” he says, handing your plate. You take a deep inhale and giggle as your belly grumbles.

“She sleeping?” he asks, taking a bite of his food.

You nod, zeroing in on your mama’s mac and cheese.

The hot, gooey cheese makes you groan and slump back in your seat. Erik watches you, laughing.

“That good?”

“That good.”

 

 

 

 

You lay back, a pillow tucked between your legs, looking at your phone and scrolling through the news. Erik steps into the room on light feet, shutting the door as quietly as possible before turning to look at you, smiling at what he sees.

“The tribe is sleeping, and Ronald’s passed out on the couch,” he says.

You groan. “Not cousin Ronald. Guess he lives here now,” you grumble.

Erik laughs. “Don’t worry. I’ll wake him when I leave out in the morning.”

You nod and look back at your phone.

“You all right? You were real quiet today, even with your favorite cousin Quana showed up,” he teases.

“Quana’s not my favorite cousin,” you say, remembering distinctly the time when the two of you were fifteen and she locked you outside your grandmother’s apartment for the whole night.

“Oh yeah? Then who’s your favorite? Ronald?” he teases. You roll your eyes and focus back on what you were reading before.

Erik watches you, sighing before pushing himself off the door. “You spread out like that for me?” he asks, stepping closer.

You look up at him and roll your eyes again, putting your phone down. “I was just reading some shit about the Avengers,” you grunt in distaste.

Erik laughs, sitting on the edge of the bed as he pulls off his shoes and socks. “Oh yeah? What’s up with them now?”

“They stay fucking shit up. Do you know how long it took my parents to save up for that brownstone? Their whole life. And that big green dickhead tore through it in seconds. If I ever see them in the street we got beef,” you say, sitting up as you watch him move around the room, stripping and folding his clothes as he goes.

“You about to fight the Avengers, baby?” he asks, placing his clothes into the hamper.

“Yup, except for Thor.”

“Why not him?” he asks, playing with the band on his boxers, eyeing you as he does.

“I may not be able to drink in my condition, but I can always appreciate a fine wine,” you tease, laughing at his responding growl. Erik pulls his boxers off and steps towards the bed, back straight and eyes bright in that way you’ve always loved. You giggle, your attitude quickly forgotten, as he pulls you by your feet to the edge of the bed, sitting up slowly when he’s right before you.

“Now if I see Thor we got beef,” he grumbles, bending to give you a sharp kiss, his tongue wrapping around yours.

“Mm,” you moan as he pulls away and gives you an equally sharp smile. His grill is already out so his smile if all white but no less blinding. It’s that smile that’s taken you so off guard for nearly all your relationship. He traces his thumb across your plump lips, pressing it past them, moaning when you give it a gentle suckle, your eyes meeting his.

“Damn,” he breathes out. You pop his thumb out your mouth and trace your hands ups his thighs, loving how you can feel the muscles tightening in your wake. Your hands find their way to his hips and pull him to step in between your spread legs as you eye that part of him that has your mouth watering.

“Yeah?” he questions, nearly inaudible. You press a soft kiss on the head of him, loving the intake of breath it gets you. Slowly you trace your lips up and down him, mapping him out with flicks of your tongue as you do. He places his hand against your cheek, pushing your twists from your face as he does.

You swirl your tongue around the head again before taking him completely into your mouth as completely as you can anyways. You love how he stretches your mouth with his girth, the short abrupt thrusts of his hips as you suck him firmly, the tip of your tongue pressed against the underside of him. The place you know gets him hot.

“Fuck,” he moans, his deep voice sending electric shocks of arousal through your body. You bob your head, holding his hips still as you do, and speed up your movement. The tang of his pre-cum on your tongue making you feel bolder and surer of yourself. It’s rare that you do this, that he lets you, but it's something you love doing. Something you’ll miss.

Watching him come apart as you work him, the one hand pumping his base while you slap the head of his dick against your outstretched tongue.

“Fuuu,” he sighs, mouth unable to find that hard ‘k’ as you continue, keeping your eyes connected with his as you do. You wrap your lips around the spongy head of his member, sucking on it hard and giggling when he hisses and pulls his hips back.

“Come here,” he demands, bending over and sweeping his tongue into your mouth, kissing you hard and messy before pressing his lips along your jaw, dropping to his knees as he strokes his tongue up and down your neck, nipping at the place where your shoulder meets your neck like you like.

“So, fucking perfect,” he grumbles, pulling back to just look at you.

“You gon fuck me?” you ask, ready for him now.

Erik smiles and pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. “I’m gon fuck you all right,” he says, his voice dripping with intention.

 

 

 

“Erik!” you whisper-shout, reaching for him as he pumps into you. He slaps your hands away and keeps up his slow pace, his dick reaching deep in you as he does. You pull the covers, pressing them to your mouth as he circles his hips and hikes your legs higher around his waist. You tremble, pressing your lower back against the pillow there as you try to move up and away from him hitting that spot.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he asks, pulling you back into it.

You shake your head, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as he continues. “Yours, fuck!”

“That’s right, this is my pussy. And I’m always gon take care of it, you hear me?” You nod, mouth open and panting as he reaches down and gently rubs his thumb against your aching clit.

“Shit, fuck, fuck,” you yell into the sheets, body trembling as he bottoms out and cums. You blink, head rushing as your own orgasm pulls you apart and then back together. Erik grins down at you, pulling out slowly and tapping your hip gently as he does.

“You all right?” he asks. You nod, still dazed. He smiles moving you, so your hips are back on the bed before he quickly heads to the bathroom for a rag to clean you up. You sit up and take the rag from him as he starts to clean you up.

He watches you clean yourself, eyebrow raised. “Okay, so we’re not all right. Wassup?”

You shrug, wiping the mix of your cum and his from your thighs. He watches you silently, sitting on the bed, this time trailing his eyes after your movements through the room.

You pull on an oversized tee and place a pair of sweats on the bed for him to put on. He takes them and slips them on, his eyes still looking after you as you double back to get your purse, pulling out his cellphone and throwing it on the bed when you do.

“Thanks,” he whispers, still confused.

You turn to him, cocking your head. “Who’s Linda?”

Erik huffs out a breath, his face twisting for a second before he catches himself and goes blank.

“Who?”

“Don’t play with me, N’Jadaka. Who’s Linda?” you ask, crossing your arms as you do, back pressed into the wall, as far from him as you can manage.

“You went through my phone?” he asks, instead of answering. You roll your eyes and shift, irritated.

“Didn’t have to. Your notifications are right there. Twelve missed calls, from Linda. Seven texts, from Linda. And I’m betting those eight voicemail messages are from her too. So, who is she?”

Erik shifts, placing the phone on the end table, working his jaw as he tries to think up an excuse. Or another question, maybe. Who even knows with him.

“Listen…,” he starts just as you raise your hand.

“I don’t want excuses. I want an explanation. Who is she?”

He licks his lips. “No one important.”

“That’s not an answer, Erik. Don’t play with me.”

He blinks, his eyes darkening further as he does. “You don’t trust me?”

“No. Not right now. Not about this.”

Erik stands, his hands clenched at his sides as his anger builds. “Are you serious right now? Cause she’s calling my phone?”

You kiss your teeth, lip curling as your own anger mounts. “Tameeka saw you.”

He stops short, deflating.

“Yeah, nigga. So, what’s up? How you gon talk your way out of this one?”

“Listen, on everything, she’s nothing. She’s not like you.”

You shift, jaw trembling now. You press a hand against your belly where Nour turns and presses against your skin. “That doesn’t answer my fucking question. Who the fuck is she?”

Erik swallows and sighs. “She’s a friend.”

“Since when? Just a second ago she was ‘no one important’.”

“Since forever. Since before all of this,” Erik says, gesturing around himself. You’ve never seen him this upset, not since after Camil was born, but this is different. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t know what to call. Something you can’t place.

“Oh, yea? So, I’m the side bitch then?” you question, pushing back your urge to reach out to him. To throttle him.

“There’s no side,” he shrugs, sitting back on the bed,” She’s an old friend from Oakland. We went into the service together.”

“Yeah? And why she ain’t never been around? Why you ain’t never talk about her?”

“Cause she wasn’t important,” he says, looking down at his hands.

“She sure sounds important,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“You’re making this a big deal when it’s nothing.”

“If it was nothing then why hide it? If it was nothing why front?”

Erik lets out a long breath and looks up at you. “We just had a good day,” he whispers, his face soft in that way that makes you want to back down. Fucking con artist ass, faking ass nigga.

“You’ve been fucking around on me!”

“I ain’t fucking Lin. We not like that!” he hisses, standing again.

“Then what y’all like? She can give you those fucking scars though, right? But she can’t suck your dick like I can, is that how it works?” you ask, pushing off the wall as you do, Nour moving urgently inside of you now.

“Don’t do that,” Erik narrows his eyes,” She’s helping me with something. She’s been helping me with it from the jump.”

“Yeah? And what’s that Erik?”

He looks away from you, crossing his arms as he does.

“Tell me what it is, and I’ll drop it. I’ll leave this whole thing alone and I’ll never bring her back up. Just be honest with me.”

Erik gives you a weary grin and a shrug. “I can’t.”

“Oh what? I’m good enough to fuck? To help you build your fucking tribe but I can’t know shit, right? That’s what you like? Keeping me knocked up and in the dark? I can be your baby mama, your partner, your thing to fuck your feelings into as long as I don’t ask no questions, right?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that. I love you. I fucking love you, not Lin, not no other fucking person out there in this world. I’m in love with you. I’m loyal to you. And Tameeka sees me with my friend one time and that’s enough for you to stop trusting me?” He huffs, his eyes hardening as he moves to get dressed. You watch him silently, heart beating fast when he pulls his boots back on.

You step in front of him, your hands on your hips. You try to catch your breath, feeling choked suddenly. “You said we could work through anything. Just tell me what all this shit is about, make it clear so I can understand.”

Erik stands and reaches for you for a split second before pulling away and stepping around you. “I’ll wake Ronald when I leave,” he says, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind himself.

You watch it, plopping down onto the mattress, face crumbling when the front door slams shut. You press your shaking hands to your face and let out a sob, careful to stay quiet to not wake the girls. In your belly Nour stills.


	2. From The Foundtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prompt, just stuff.
> 
> "So keep me safe within yourself"- Áine Zion from Emeli Sande's Garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me. Edited as much as I could stand. Which is not at all, enjoy. Written to: Garden by Emeli Sande.

You wake up with a start, reaching around you blindly to find your ringing phone, hoping that Nour sleeps through it more. It feels like just five minutes since you got her down and slipped off into sleep yourself. You pull the phone off the charger and to your ear as quickly as possible, eyeing a sleeping Nour as you do.

You place a gentle hand on her brow and check to see if the fever’s passed, frowning at the clammy heat there.

“’Lo?” you whisper into the phone, too tired and worried to even be angry at whoever’s on the other end of the line.

“Girl,” Tameeka starts, sounding much too giddy and breathless for it to be, you check your phone screen, two in the morning.

“It’s too early, Meeka,” you grumble, standing anyway. You pull the covers up higher on Nour’s little body and place your pillows around her in case she rolls over.

In your ear Tameeka curses and shifts, morning wind whipping around her as she moves. You can hear one of her cousins, Charlene probably, laughing in the background, even as Tameeka tells her to duck. Behind what, you aren’t sure, but you know that’s probably what this phone call is for. You slip out of the room, leaving the door open as you do.

“Hold up, Meeka,” you say as you pass by the girl’s room, checking in on them and smiling as you do. Kadija snores softly while Camil hangs partially off her bed, legs dangling completely off the side.

You stop and go in, situating her back on the mattress as gently as you can before leaving out again and heading to the kitchen.

“Meeka, what’s going on? You alright?” you ask, sitting at the small card table in the corner, watching the dark sky slowly lighten.

“I found her, bitch!” Tameeka shouts into your ear.

You frown and pull the phone slightly away from your ear. “You too loud for it to be this early.”

“That’s what I said!” you hear Charlene chime in in the background, the two of you laughing as Tameeka grumbles and curses.

“Fuck that quiet shit, listen, I fucking _found_ her,” Tameeka says, voice noticeably lower now.

“Who? Shanice?”

Tameeka sucks her teeth and you can just picture her rolling her eyes as she does it. “Fuck a Shanice.”

“Yall back hating each other huh?”

“Only think I’m back to is my grind bitch!”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you sit in the dark kitchen, eyes closed as you listen to Tameeka and Charlene go on one of their “Shanice who?” rants. One you’d usually join in on if you weren’t so tired and also trying to listen out for any noise from your bedroom.

“Meeka, I don’t wanna rush you but…?”

“Oh shit, you right. Sorry, I know you got to sleep and shit, but this is important.”

“Yeah, I know. You _found_ her,” you say, nodding your head as you do. The hum of the fridge behind you lulling you for a moment back into that soft sleepy space.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, hoe,” Tameeka says on the other end, a car honking somewhere around her.

You stand and move to the fridge, pulling out one of Tameeka’s little Starbucks drinks she always makes you get when you go food shopping. You place the phone down on the counter as you pop it open and take a sip, the sharp sweetness of the coffee jolting you nearly fully into wakefulness.

You lick your teeth, trying to warm them after the cold sluice of liquid goes down. It’s much too sweet but just what you need right now.

“Hello?” Tameeka asks into the phone. You pull it quickly back to your ear.

“Sorry, I had to get something to drink. Tell me what’s going on?”

“Yeah, sorry. Listen, I was hanging out with Charlene and her lil dickhead boyfriend and, you remember him, right? The ugly nigga?”

You laugh as you hear Charlene cursing Tameeka out, some things never change. “Yeah, Meeka, I remember him. The bald one right?”

“Yeah, that one. He got hair now though, still can’t grow a job but we all have our priorities.”

“Just tell the damn story!” Charlene shouts behind her.

“Damn, so sensitive. Anyway, we were hanging out and he lives in Park Slope, right? So, we heading to his house cause he swear up and down he got the best weed and he’s 'bout to smoke us out, whatever. Anyway, he talking all this shit right as we’re getting to his fancy ass building and guess who the fuck I see, bitch?!”

“Who?” you ask, taking another sip of the coffee drink.

“The illusive fucking light skin herself. Lin.”

You stop, blinking into the empty kitchen for a long moment before placing the glass bottle down on the counter. You can hear Tameeka still talking on the phone, but it feels like you’ve been carried out to sea, bobbing up and down over gently cresting waves.

“You say the word and we run up, beat her ass, and leave,” Tameeka says as you come back into yourself. Consciousness slipping a piece at a time back into your skin.

“I…,” you start, stopping as you try to figure out what you’re feeling or thinking. Anything. There’s only buzzing behind your eyes when you close them to blink and it sends you back off kilter. Like everything in the world’s been sent two centimeters to the left and you’re the only one who notices.

“You okay?” Meeka asks, her voice softer now.

A sharp cry rings out in the apartment, jerking you out of your daze and back to the present. You step out of the kitchen and into the hallway, standing still for a moment before rushing forward at the sound of another one.

“That’s Nour, I have to go,” you blurt, hanging up before Tameeka can respond.

You make your way to your bedroom on swiftly moving feet, pulling a crying Nour into your arms once you’re in reach. She clings to you, pressing her face into your neck as you try to calm her down. You press a hand to her forehead, relieved that past the sweat her brow is much cooler than before.

 

* * *

 

 

You blink into the sunlight, frowning at the lack of Nour’s weight in your arms. You sit up quickly, head rushing as you do. You rub at your own temple and look around the room, trying to figure out where she could have gone to. You listen closely to the apartment beyond your closed bedroom door and frown at the silence.

Standing, slower this time, you check the time on your phone and sigh at the number of missed calls from Tameeka. You’ll have to call her back, but after you find out what your kids are up to. It’s too silent out there for it to be anything good.

Slowly, you leave the room, checking the girl’s room and bathroom only to find them empty.

Just as you head back to your room to call her mom, this smells suspiciously of her, the front door opens to the loud laughter of your kids. Kadija comes through first, a Bed, Bath, and Beyond bag in her hands. Camil squeezes between her and the door, rushing into your arms as she spots you.

Erik stands at the door, holding a giggling Nour in his arms. He watches you closely as Kadija follows after Camil. You smile down at the two of them and hug them back, your heart rate going back down.

“Morning,” he murmurs. You look at him and give him a soft smile, despite the irritation building in the back of your mind. Body still aching with the revelation Tameeka’d brought to you just that morning.

“How you feeling?” he asks, placing Nour down on her wobbly legs. She quickly rushes to you, smiling wide and toothlessly up at you as you bend to pick her up.

You place two kisses against her cheeks, trying to avoid his eyes as you do.

“I’m good. Where were yall?” you ask.

Before he can say a word Kadija and Camil are both talking a mile a minute, gesturing to the bag in Kadija’s hand, even little Nour is blabbering on. In the doorway Erik hesitates, he always does now and as much as you hate him right now, you hate that more.

“Okay, okay, it’s too early for all this noise,” you grumble, blowing a raspberry into Nour’s plump and feverless cheek. She squeals and pulls back, reaching for Erik to escape your torture. He moves quickly then, grabbing her up without touching you.

It makes your stomach hurt.

“Ma!” Kadija shouts, lifting the bag into your view.

“That’s where y’all went? Shopping?” you ask, taking the bag to look inside. Kadija just smiles and nods, Camil beside her grinning wide and excited.

“For me?” you ask, as you get past the pink tissue paper. You smile at the set of lotions and body washes, not that you’ll end up using any of it. You’ve started to use some natural shit Tameeka’s always raging about, it helps that she brings you a bunch of products whenever you run out. But the girls’ love shit like this, smelling like peaches and flowery shit.

Not too long ago you did too. You eye Erik from the corner of your eye, suddenly annoyed at all the distance between you two. At the things he should know, should be up to date with concerning your preferences.

It’s his own fault, logically you know that. He’s a big fucking boy and he can make his choices all his own but… the irrational, hurt side of you, the side that loves him like you’ll probably never love anyone else, has only one person in mind who holds all the blame.

The ever-elusive light skin herself. Fucking Linda.

 

* * *

 

Tameeka grins, her face cast in shadow as she nods in the corner of her apartment, the curtains pulled close like someone could actually see the two of you or listen in on your conversation here on the thirteenth floor.

Though you’ve known _brackheads_ who’ve done wilder things than climb thirteen floors just to listen in on some shit that didn’t involve them. Literally, anything your cousin Ronald does is proof of that.

“Charlene got the in; her dumb boyfriend invited us over to smoke, promised some good ass Jamaican food too, so like? We in there,” Tameeka says, sitting up straight now.

You nod, staring straight ahead.

“So, what we gon do when we see this bitch? Rock her shit or you trying to talk?” Tameeka asks, you already know she’s hoping for the former but, truth be told, you don’t even know. You haven’t thought that far ahead, and you say so.

Tameeka shrugs. “All right, whatever. Fuck a plan. We get in there, smoke some, eat some, and then when she shows up we’ll figure it out on the spot.”

This is so unlike you it makes you dizzy. Even in high school when jumping bitches was the thing to do you always kept your beefs between you and whoever it was you had smoke with. Not that you ended up fighting a bunch, with a mother like yours who’d drop you kick into homelessness for less, you didn’t get the chance to scrap out your differences. Which was all the better because you didn’t even like fighting. Or confrontation.

Not that you’d hide, your mom taught you that too, but fighting and all the mess that came with it just wasn’t for you.

Shit, some days you even regret confronting Erik. What would your relationship look like now if you hadn’t pushed, you think about that a lot.

Hell, even a small part of you is resentful to Tameeka for even telling you! You remember, in a way that feels like it was more of a fever dream than a real conversation, talking about how you never wanted to know. Though, that was silly of you. You wouldn’t have been happy that way.

Not knowing, not confronting him.

“So, when we leaving?” you ask, jaw clenched.

“Whenever you ready,” Tameeka says, standing and grabbing her jacket off the back of the loveseat she’d been sitting in. She hands you yours and gives you a rueful smile.

“Say the word and I’m rocking that hoe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Here this is! Writing has been the bane of my existence for a while now, at least for this series so um? Sorry for the wait. I'm expecting the next chapter, which is actually two prompt fills for the price of one, by the end of this coming week. Maybe Monday if I get real excited about it.
> 
> Also? If you didn't previously know what a brackhead was before this fic, don't start using it. :P

**Author's Note:**

> Smash that mfing kudos. Leave a comment. Take care of yourself.


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